


Chevalier No More

by RandomnonsenseDA (B1nary_S0lo)



Series: Avenie Caron [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins - Awakening
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Grey Wardens, Orlais (Dragon Age), Orlesian Chevaliers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-22
Updated: 2019-11-22
Packaged: 2021-02-17 21:43:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21516931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/B1nary_S0lo/pseuds/RandomnonsenseDA
Summary: Avenie, a trainee at the Academie des Chevaliers, discovers the dark side of the path she's chosen. Then a mysterious Grey Warden offers her a new way forward.
Relationships: Female Warden & Jean-Marc Stroud, Orlesian Warden & Jean-Marc Stroud
Series: Avenie Caron [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/519637
Kudos: 7





	Chevalier No More

“No,” Avenie said. “I won’t allow this.”

Her hand rested on the hilt of her blade. Behind her lay the gates of Val Royeux’s Alienage, and ranged in front of her were several of her fellow trainees at the Academie. Her friends. Or so she’d thought.

“Come off it, Avenie.”

“ _Allow_ this? Is she serious?”

“It’s just a bit of fun.”

Avenie gritted her teeth. Chevalier training may have been a lie, but it hadn’t been useless. She was surveying the situation as she’d been taught, looking out for ways to defend herself and get the upper hand if they decided to fight their way past her. The street they were on was open, big enough for fighting, and though many of them were tense as though ready for battle, they seemed caught off guard, not as ready to attack as she was. But the fact remained that it was six against one, and most of them had had more training than her. She might be able to stop one or two of them, but the rest would either overpower her, or simply leave her to fight while they ran to the Alienage. She would have to talk them out of it.

“Attacking elves is _not_ the purpose of our training,” she said, heart racing. “We-we must protect the weak, not prey on them.”

A few of her companions exchanged looks. There were titters. Eyes were rolled. Ariel, the tallest and most charismatic of the group, spoke.

“Avenie, it’s tradition,” he said, voice reasonable. “Practice. Elves today, Orlais’ foes tomorrow. Generations of Chevaliers have done the same.”

“The tradition is _wrong_ ,” she said. How could she make them see? She was a fighter, not a diplomat, and her voice shook even if her hands didn’t. She could only think of one more tactic.

“Julien, please.”

He was at the back, almost hidden in the shadows and head hung, but he looked up when she spoke. His black curls framing his face, eyes that same blue that always made her heart pound.

“You cannot agree with this. Please, make them see reason!”

He looked at her, blinked. Then, he looked at the ground. Her heart felt like it would tear into pieces.

Ariel drew his sword, the ring of steel echoing on the quiet street.

“This grows tiresome. Chevaliers, with me!”

Avenie drew her own blade, a noise echoed by the drawing of five others. They ran at her.

Avenie ducked, dodging out of the path of the sword that had been aimed at her chest. She came up and rammed into the nearest attacker’s chest, knocking him back. Someone tried to grab her from behind, and she spun, catching them in the chest with the flat of her sword, then lashing out at fighters to her right, to her left. She spotted Karine, one of the only other women in the group, attempting to get past her, but she leapt to the side and blocked her, at the same time kicking the man who tried to stab her in the side.

Bad idea. He grabbed her leg, pulling her to the ground. Her face hit the dirt, and she struggled to free herself as he dragged her across the dust. With a roar, she twisted, turning herself on to her back and jumping to her feet, knocking Ariel back at the same time. Righting herself, she wiped the blood from her nose, spat out the dirt, and held out her sword. But they were surrounding her, coming from all sides. Ariel’s grin was wolflike, and even Julien’s gaze was intense and cold. She stepped back. She would keep fighting them as long as she could. Even if they killed her, at least she would die defending others.

Then Karine cried out, doubling over in pain. Someone had slashed her in the back, and used the opening to break through the circle surrounding Avenie. A man ran to her side. All she could tell about him in the dark was that he was tall and solidly built, and he had a sword.

“With me,” he said. “We can take them together.”

Avenie nodded, not really having any other choice. He moved so he was at her back, facing those who were behind her. They separated.

Swords clashed in the night. Avenie was taking on Ariel and Julien, the strange man the three others. Karine was nowhere to be seen, must have stumbled off back to the Academie. Avenie hoped this meant she’d learned something.

As she knocked Julien’s blade aside, she glanced over her shoulder at the battle behind her. Though he was outnumbered, the strange man was fighting well, expertly dodging the three trainees’ thrusts and slashes. She saw him knock big Octave aside, slash a wound down his breastplate. The man stumbled and fell.

Before long, the battle was over. Several of her former friends lay on the ground, and the others had run back to the Academie. Avenie wiped her sword and re-sheathed it, noticing that Julien was not among the dead. She felt numb.

“Come on.” The man’s voice. He reached for her wrist, holding her steady. “We ought not to linger here.”

Too exhausted to do anything else, Avenie went with him.

The man’s name was Stroud. He was a serious looking fellow with dark hair and a handlebar mustache. Not the type you’d forget, but Avenie didn’t realize who he was until they were already speaking over drinks at the tavern.

“ _Jean-Marc_ Stroud?” she said. “The former Chevalier?” No wonder he had fought so well. “I thought you were exiled from the empire.”

Stroud took a sip of his drink, then shook his head.

“No, not exiled. I left by choice. But I do return from time to time.” His eyes twinkled. “You likely don’t remember, but I was among the Grey Wardens who visited your class at the Academie.”

Avenie did remember. Several weeks back, when they’d been learning how to fight Darkspawn, the Warden Commander had visited along with several others, who’d remained at the back of the hall. Stroud must have been among them.

Stroud set his stein down and wiped foam from his mustache. He was looking at her seriously.

“What are you going to do now?” he said. “You fought with your fellow trainees, and not, from the Academie’s point of view, over a point of honor. Things will be difficult for you after this.”

Avenie nodded. She ran a finger along the rim of her wine glass, but didn't lift it. Her stomach still felt too hollow for drink.

"Do you regret it?” Stroud said.

“No,” Avenie said immediately. “What they were trying to do was wrong. I’m just… disappointed.”

“Disappointed?”

“In the Chevaliers,” she said. She reached for her glass. Perhaps she needed the alcohol after all. “I thought… I thought Chevaliers fought for others, not just themselves. I thought they protected people.”

“Some do,” Stroud said. “Not all participate in the so-called tradition your friends were emulating. But protection is not a priority of the order.”

Avenie blinked away the blurriness that was starting to obscure her vision. “I… I don’t know what I’m going to do now. But I will not go back. I will not serve an order that places honor so highly above anything else.”

“So, you became a chevalier because you wanted to protect people?”

Avenie nodded.

“And because of that you stood up to your comrades in arms, your friends, even though you knew they might kill you?”

She nodded again.

“May I make a suggestion?” he said. “The Grey Wardens would welcome you as a recruit. Bravery and tenacity are things we admire. Not to mention the desire to protect. And we could use someone with your combat skills.”

Avenie took another sip of her drink, thinking.

“Is the training difficult?”

“Not nearly as difficult as training at the Academie. But it does require sacrifices. Your life won’t be the same after you join.”

“But I could do good.”

“Our purpose is to fight Darkspawn and stop Blights. So, yes, you would be doing good. You would also be able to move much more freely and widely.”

Avenie didn’t answer, so Stroud cleared his throat. “Well, perhaps you should take time to think about it. I’ll be—”

“I’ll do it,” Avenie said.

Stroud blinked. “Really? You’re sure?”

“Yes. I can’t be a chevalier anymore… but as a Grey Warden my skills wouldn’t go to waste. I’ll do it.”

Stroud smiled. He reached out and shook her hand. “Welcome, Avenie Caron,” he said. “The Wardens will be glad to have you. I’ll speak to the training master, and we can go to Commander Clarel in the morning.”

Avenie nodded. A Grey Warden. Somehow it felt right.


End file.
